Legends of Belariath

Morrigan Steel

Weep Not For Me

Slim fingers are run through her golden shoulder length mane as long strides carry the paladin towards her sunny afternoon destination of the bank. It had been a long, tedious day that began with day break studying, practice then one disgruntled or foul mood customer at the Weapons Shop. Despite that she greeted each with a warmth she didn't always feel but it didn't preclude her from offering the same warm greeting to each. Tomorrow would be better, she tells herself as the sun warms her shoulders through the thin red silk of her shirt as she reached for the handle to the bank door. A light breeze and the sound of parchment fluttering against the quickly appearing breeze on an otherwise breezeless day draws her attention.

Emerald green eyes leave the visage of the bank door and turn in search of the sound and come to rest upon a small, frail appearing old man and a small girl, standing near an old post with a tattered parchment rustling upon it.

Something about those eyes speak volumes to her in the brief moments they lock upon hers. Ancient knowledge in what 'appears' to be an old body, or is it a young, wearied man? And the child, her eyes seem to tear at the tender heart of the paladin and her soft worn boots find a new path as she sets off towards them, her errand temporarily forgotten.

The man reaches an old, wrinkled hand back to smooth the tattered note down and as her gaze lifts to follow his movement she catches the brief few words scrawled boldly upon the parchments worn surface stating that assistance is needed to rescue a Jerico Saren who was under siege by goblins and orcs. The amount of the reward offered was 10 meherials to each signing warrior, not even enough, she knew, that would attract more than a casual gaze from most warriors. Apparently he was just an ordinary man with no ties to nobility or vast amounts of money or friends. Her gaze moves back to the man and girl before her as she observes even their clothes are little more than rags so worn they are. Both sets of eyes seem to plead.

"Was that note posted by you and if so, can you tell me a bit about this? I might be able to help...." she finds her sultry voice naturally voicing her thoughts to them when most would be walking away by now.

"Yes, it was. You see, this girl came to me with a tale about her grandfather, my neighbor, Jerico Saren, that his son's farm was besieged by orcs and goblins, green skins." his dry voice crackles through the air, yet...it doesn't sound old, oddly enough. "I approached as close as I dared and sure enough, there be green skins about. I am just a farmer, I can't help him so I figured the next best thing was to hire someone who could. This is all the money I have. I might be able to throw in a cow or something too, if it wasn't that I needed the milk for the little ones I have back home."

"Indeed. Your name?" she had assumed as much, by the state of his clothes, his wizened appearance.

"Jason Samuels. Know anyone that will help?" voice sounds familiar, she thinks, then moves to kneel on one knee before the young girl to look in her eyes and compensate for her height." I might." she replies to Jason then gazes into the young woman's eyes. A strange shiver runs down her spine as she nearly becomes nauseated at the ebony bottomless depths to the eyes that meet hers. "Young lady, what is your name?" Morrigan asks as she tries to quell the sixth sense that is warning her off this mission, almost as if a palatable fear seems to develop.

"Jennifer. I'm so scared, can you save grandpa? My daddy would but he is away on a 'ission! He's a knight!" the young girl rattles off quickly, her long raven hair stringy with dirt and a dark smudge of mud on one pale cheek. "He's famous! Sir Saren. That's my dad." Morrigan reaches a gentle hand to caress the girl's cheek, who appears to maybe be 15 years of age or there a bouts. "Sir Saren. He sounds impressive. I am Morrigan. Tell me, Jennifer, how did you get away?" her curiosity becomes piqued, despite the sense of fear.

"Grandpa can't walk really good but he can shoot fine with a bow yet so he shot some of those ole green skins while I snuck to the barn and got away on ole Nellie, only she ain't so old, she just likes to poke along, or did." the young girl seems to become crestfallen at this.

"Did?" Morrigan urges. "Yes. The Walkers got her at the edge of the swamp and that is when I ran and ran till I got to Mr. Samuel's place." Morrigan's gaze shoots upwards towards Samuels, fear again twisting inside. "Walkers? I haven't heard of anything like that."

"It's nothing, really. I think a bear or some wolves got the horse near the swamp." Samuels offers rather quickly. "Remember, we talked about that, Jennifer? She always was imaginative." Samuels again offers rather hurriedly. Morrigan again glances up to Samuels as a feeling of oddness about the whole situation strikes her.

"Walkers are the ones grandpa said died, but came back for something...bad magic, grandpa says." Jennifer chimes in then stills at a sudden jerk to her hand within Samuel's grip and she twists it a moment, before mumbling almost too low to be caught. "Alright, it was wolves." she defers to the man as she stands somewhat sullen. But what was that brief glint Morrigan noted, before the woman's dark, bottomless eyes dropped...was it...pride? Surely she is mistaken, Morrigan believes and moves to rise before the pair.

Despite the sense of foreboding she feels and a sense that she is going to regret this she finds herself offering her services to the pair. "I'll gather my gear and my horse and meet you here first thing in the morning. How far away away are we going?" She discounts the relief she sees in their eyes, believing it is because they simply found someone willing to help, but is that the true reason for it?

"No need for your horse, we have transport. You see...I do more than farming, it's not enough to pay the bills. I run a carriage route once a week from Seminole on to Nanthalion. It's roughly a full two to three days journey from here.. I will see to your return." Samuels explains quickly.

"Indeed. A carriage ..?" surprise flashes across her beautiful features as she is unable to hide that bit of news. Quickly she tries to quell it so as to not offend or dishonor the pair, it's the best they can offer and to throw it back in their faces...well...it just isn't done, at least by a paladin. Humbly she bows to them both. "Thank you, then I would be honored. In the morning then, at first light I shall be here." she starts to turn, the stops mid-step. "No need to pay me but if you can use it to find more help or supplies I would rather you do that instead." Before they can argue she is off to set about the many errands she must attend to before she can begin to make preparations for the journey. A soft sound follows after her, almost like a summery gleeful laugh and a glance back over her shoulder towards where the pair had been and she notices nothing but the wind fluttering other posted parchments on that post. A slight shrug of her corded shoulders and she turns back about to her errands, the puzzle of such a quick disappearance soon forgotten in the muddle of her preparations.

All too quickly the fingers of evening's approach is sent tendriling about the buildings of Nanthalion before the cover of darkness itself transcends as the willowy paladin retires to her room with her slaves for the duration of the night. With arrangements made with a friend to watch over them during her journey she shares with them her expectations of behavior while she is gone as they prepare her armor for her trip. Having few belongings she packs a few changes of clothes and light rations of bread and cheese, just in case. As she tucks the last of her items within the sack her gaze lifts towards the sensitive, loving Janos and nearly silent tribesman Brahms. Without speaking she already knows Brahms will lookout for Janos as well when her thoughts are broken by the sudden sobs and tear-filled embrace around her waist from Janos.

"Oh...Mistress!" he sobs and her arms go about his smaller frame soothingly and then she feels the quiet, understanding weight of the tribesman's hand upon her shoulder. Candles brighten the room more as the last of the light of day fades and the trio evolve into a night of lovemaking from that moment till they collapse, limbs akimbo, late into the night well after the last short candle fizzles out.

As soft reddish morning streaks of light begin to slip through the window and drizzled across the naked bodies of her slaves she straps the last fastening upon her armor and adjusts her baldric to let the crystal sword hang comfortably at her back. She kisses her fingers and softly presses a kiss to each slave lovingly and glances to the notes she prepared for them both and placed upon the dresser for each when they wake. Words not only from a Mistress with reminders, but words of love and support for Janos, and more of the deeper, philosophical discussion that she and Brahms were lately in as well as several lessons she had outlined for him to work on in her absence. Lastly another envelope in case she never returned. This sense of foreboding spurred that document's creation and hopefully...it wouldn't be needed but she's far too practical to -not- be prepared in that eventuality. After all, she is a warrior and sometimes warriors just didn't return.

A clink here and there as she walked, the chime of the mithril armor heralding her approach towards the meeting point before she could be seen, her gaze traveling over the carriage that awaits. A snap of the curtain and the young girl's bottomless ebony eyes peer out at Morrigan and a thud of boot on wood and whisper of leather as reigns are fastened from the driver's seat and the old man appears to make his way towards the ladder to come down for her belongings.

"Morning Morrigan, right on time." rings out Samuel's voice, bright and strong for what appears to be an older man. Morri lifts up her sack of clothes and meager supplies easily despite how heavy it was; she wasn't a blacksmith for nothing. A quick sweep of her brow upwards as the wizened Samuels hefts it as if it was a bag of feathers and tosses it to the holding area on top. "Hope it's not too hea.." she started to say as the bag was lifted only to stop and take this in with surprise.

"What did you say?" Samuels asks as he turns around to take his place in the seemingly uncomfortable drivers' seat.

"Nothing, nothing at all. Just wasn't sure if that would be too heavy." she adds as an afterthought as she observes him curiously from her place at the bottom of the ladder by the carriage. A creak and light step draw her attention away from Samuels and towards the carriage door as it swung open and Jennifer's face peers through the window at her. That is all the girl does, is peer at her. No words of greeting. Morri takes the few steps needed and as she reaches the step to the carriage Jennifer disappears back inside the carriage and she enters after her and closes the door before setting back in the side opposite Jennifer. She gives a nod of greeting and a warm smile towards the young girl when she hears the click of a tongue, slap of reigns then a sudden lurch forward of the carriage as her gaze turned towards the small window of the carriage. It didn't strike her at first but then she realizes the post they passed was bare of the notice causing her to wonder.

"The notice, it's gone." she begins as they rock within the gentle motion of the carriage.

"Didn't you want more help?"

The girl stared up with her ebony eyes, expressionless. "No one else answered, why leave it?"

Morri grows silent at that as the feeling she stuck her foot in her mouth on that one. A half hour passes before she decides it will be a long trip if neither one speaks. "Sorry that I brought that up, you know, about the notice. Try not to worry, I'll get your grandfather out safe and sound." she replies with a certainty she doesn't really feel.

"I know." Jennifer states.

"Ah, anyway, care to tell me more about what I might be up against? Anything about the green skins or Walkers?" she ventures hesitantly.

"Lots of green skins." quips the girl as her hand quickly darts into a small, worn sack on the carriage seat, heretofore not noticed by Morrigan. "Want a biscuit and herb tea?" Jennifer asks as her earlier tones seem to soften.

Morrigan bites off her reply to the quip, reminding herself Jennifer is probably just worried about her grandfather and not realizing the paladin's desire to try and prepare for what's ahead. "Yes, if you have enough for yourself first." Jennifer nods and passes one over and a skin filled with lukewarm somewhat bitter tea.

"Thank you, Jennifer." a few long moments of silence hang in the air before Morri continues on another track. "What's it like, your farm, is it pretty?" Morri casually glances up to the girl's eyes as the reddish early morning light filters into the carriage and it causes a shiver to run down her spine for the briefest of moments as Jennifer's eyes seem to remind her so much of dark elf within that reddish coloration.

Like a wellspring that has just been tapped Jennifer starts to chatter all about the farm. There were a few cows, chickens, sheep, goats, a squirrel named Tippy that liked fresh corn and of course, Nellie. Several farm hands too, Jon and Asedil, who were helping to protect the grandfather and the farm for now. On and on she chatted and through it all Morri began to piece together a general lay of the farm, the hills and valleys surrounding it.

At first Jennifer was quiet about her mother but towards evening she divulged her mother had disappeared three months ago at about this same time of the month. Her mother had last been seen walking towards the field to gather some tomatoes and lettuce for the evening meal, but she never returned. Signs indicated she was taken by orcs and sold to dark elf as a slave. By the time Jennifer's father tracked her down at the slave's market she had been sold for a few meherials. As Jennifer's father tried to deal with Selson, the dark elf who purchased Jerico's wife, there was a commotion within the slave kennels. Selson, the dark elf slaver, left Jerico within the company of his guard and when he returned he brought the body of Jerico's wife and demanded the price he paid for her, plus profit, before he would release the battered body to him. It seemed one of his slaves, a female barbarian, didn't take a liking to the new slave and so battered her to death.

Heartbroken and now broke, Jerico returned with the body and buried it upon the farm beneath a weeping willow in the field then left Jennifer in the company of his father and the farm hands. Jerico then left with a few of his fellow knights to escort a shipment of mithril to the neighboring village due to an increase of bandits targeting the shipments once they left the dwarven miners. From what Morri could gather this was a normal duty for Jerico given to him by his liege to deliver goods and monies to the dwarves in exchange for the mithril then provide protection for the delivery and drivers back to the village of Seminole before returning to the small farm. Jerico was required to make this run once a month and was gone a week and a half to two weeks during this time. While it didn't pay an exorbitant amount it did cover the costs of maintaining a farm and help to keep food upon the table, if not much else. A father had to do what a father had to do and had no time for grief.

As the tale wore on and Jennifer became more distraught Morri moved to sit near to her and by the time the day had eroded into night, her genuine warmth and caring heart had soothed the girl and helped to assuage some of the grief. Or so Morri believed, not realizing how genuine care could be turned into a weapon, a lesson she would never forget once it was revealed to her.

The carriage rolled to a stop, reigns locked in place then the sounds of boots making their way down the ladder. The door opened to reveal Jennifer curled against the armored paladin, asleep, and she herself near asleep. A day of sitting still and offering draining comfort and concern proved to be nearly as hard as a day in battle but it was a price the paladin willingly paid day in and day out if it managed to save a life or help in any means.

Morri lifted a hand and brushed cobwebs of weariness from across her eyes as Jennifer stirred then they both exited the carriage to make preparations before night fall. The scenery had changed from the familiar forests of Nanthalion to the more foreboding, thickening forests of Jennifer's homeland. The night was filled with strange sounds from nocturnal creatures and Morri slept little due to the increasing sense of dread and the mysterious sounds. Quietly she kept guard while the other two slept near the fire, the carriage at their backs and nervously snickering horses tied off at bushes nearby.

Thankfully she had removed some of her armor within the carriage during the day, to prevent stiffness, and had managed a few hours of sleep, but she still found it harder to keep awake as the night wore on and the warmth of the flames making the area about the fire cozy.

She tried everything to keep awake from checking fastenings upon her vambraces and greaves to taking short walks around the campsite in the cooler air but all her efforts began to loose against the creeping weariness.

Towards early morning the battle against sleep was slowly being lost as Morri's head tipped forward to her chest as her back rested against the carriage wheel where she had settled after her last pacing of the camp. Dreams of an approaching storm began to dance before her eyes and peals of low rolling thunder started to lull her to sleep when a sharp squeal from the horses alerted her. Her head snapped up and her eyes opened to see a large wolf laying in wait at the edge of camp, the lowering flame of the fire shining within its eyes. She rolled to her feet as her crystal sword whistled free from its sheath and with a shout as she noticed a few more wolves circling them. "Jennifer! Into the carriage!" Morri shouted, feeling that was the best protection for the girl as the two forms by the fire sat bolt upright.

Like a blur Jennifer darted for the carriage while one of the horses screamed again as Samuels threw a stack of wood on the fire in his excitement and nearly stifled the fire out. It smoked and smoldered before flames began to lick their way through the pile of wood heaped upon it. Wolves rose to their feet and growled lowly, the same type of rumbling that Morri had been dreaming was thunder. Her gaze quickly swept the area and towards the horses as they began to panic and fight against the ties to the bushes as wolves closed in about their hooves. One darted for the stomach of the horse furtherest from them as another larger wolf jumped atop the horse's back and sank its deadly teeth into the back of its neck as its claws raked valleys into the frightened horse's back. A well placed hoof sent the first wolf flying with a crushed skull and an Energy Bolt sent the other off the horse's bloodied back. More well placed Energy Bolts from Morri exploded into the dirt before the wolves and shouts from Samuels and his waving of a torch at them sent the wolves scattering back into the undergrowth.

Quickly Morri and Samuels used the last of their wood to build a few more fires about them in a semicircle about the carriage and horses then Morri spent the rest of the dark early morning hours cleansing and healing the injured horse after both were calmed down. "Does this happen every time you pass through here?" Morri questions Samuel's, wondering how he survives such trips alone each time.

"I don't know. Mostly I take the route from Seminole, this was a short cut." The fires began to smolder out just shortly before daybreak and while both her and Samuels felt watched from the undergrowth, no further attacks came. Inexplicably the nervous horses seem to become almost passive and the sense of wolves near vanished.

Unease began to fill the paladin again when the sound of a twig snapping drew both her and Samuel's attention towards the edge of the clearing. Where a large wolf had crouched only hours earlier appeared one of the most beautiful women Morrigan had ever seen. She was tall, about six feet, so blond her hair was almost white and sparkling blue eyes and a beige colored robe. She just simply...was.

Her movements were graceful and silent as she moved through the early reddish morning dawn clearing towards them, the shocked silence broken by her musical voice, "Samuels, I wasn't expecting you through till later on this week, did you forget to alert me?"

"I'm sorry, there was no time. My neighbor's farm was attacked by green skins and I was trying to find warriors to help. This is the only one who agreed to come." Samuels then motions towards the paladin who steps forth and offers her hand to the druid elven woman as if she was cued.

"I'm Morrigan, Wel Met." her sultry voice's rich tones pale in comparison to the elf's voice. The elven woman takes her hand and suddenly pulls the paladin close to her and her eyes lock on Morrigan's as if she is searching for something. Long moments they gaze at each other and when Sariana finally speaks Morrigan releases a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The woman was intoxicating in and of herself alone.

"Yes, you'll do I'm Sariana." Sariana assesses before letting the paladin go so she may step back, the elf not seeming to notice that Samuels had not addressed her by name.

"I will do for what?" Now if that wasn't an odd thing to say, Morrigan reasons, fear again raising it's ugly head for a moment.

"To have a spot of tea with, of course." the elf laughs, easing Morri's fears. "I intend to go back with Samuels as he and his wife are an old friends of mine. "Samuels, the wolves are disoriented by the green skins...and other happenings. We must hurry if you wish to pass through Walkers Swamp and reach your home before nightfall."

Again the strange term that everyone seems to know but her. "What exactly are the Walkers?" Morrigan asks the elven woman as she and Samuels began to quickly break camp and put out the smoldering embers.

Samuels is given a sharp glance from Sariana. "The wolves have moved on for now. Walkers are just.." "Sariana!" comes a piercing cry from within the carriage and like the wind Jennifer flys out and towards the elven druid. "Will you help too?" Jennifer asks as her arms wrap around the woman. "Of course dear, now let's you and I talk." Sariana smiles and leads Jennifer to the back of the carriage.

Morri gazes after the two a moment with concern but then Jennifer seemed to know her...so she moves to quickly help Samuels break camp and hitch up the two bay mares to the carriage. A quick check of the injured one showed it seem to be alright now and she turns to head back towards the back of the carriage when Jennifer and Sariana appear, all smiles. Jennifer stops by the ladder to climb it up after Samuels. "Aren't you riding in the carriage with us?" Morrigan asks.

"Maybe after lunch, I would like some fresh air today." Jennifer replies with a smile, the appearance of Sariana apparently having quite a mood altering affect on the young woman.

"Sure, some sun might do you some good." Morrigan agrees then holds the door for Sariana as she enters the carriage and Morri climbs in after the elf and closes the door. Moments later the carriage lurches forward with a grinding noise of the wheels then it settles into its rocking rhythm as the horses pull it along at a fast pace. The sunlight, with a redder cast to it than the day previous shone through the small windows and Morri settles back into the seat across with Sariana, fully decked in her armor and weapons.

"Might as well relax a while, get to know each other a bit better..." Sariana starts with a winning smile as she rises and boldly takes her place by Morrigan on the carriage seat.

"Well, I must admit I am curious about a lot of things, your sudden appearing, what's ahead, these Walkers, and other things. That would help, if you could tell me more about all this." nervous and attempting to hide it as she speaks as forthrightly as she usually does, laying her cards upon the table.

"Oh, plenty of time for that. Wine?" the elf asks, offering a wineskin.

One of the few things the paladin can't resist is a good wine and so she reaches for the skin to share a drink. "Yes, thank you. You are a lifesaver."

"You are welcome, now, don't you think you would feel better if you didn't sit all day in that muscle stiffening armor?" Sariana asks soothingly as she starts to work at some of the armor fastenings upon Morri's armor.

Morri lifts a hand to brush Sariana's off and notices how soft it seems to feel. "Well, yes, one does get rather stiff but I don't know what danger we might yet face."

"No danger, not for a few hours, at least. Please?" Sariana's eyes seem large, soft, and like a depthless sea of blue. "A few hours..." Morri finds herself acquiescing and stoppers the wineskin and lays it aside. Piece by piece of the armor soon follows.

"Much better, isn't it?" Sariana asks as she starts to massage Morri's shoulder. "So tense, you really should relax.." she drones almost hypnotically into her ear as she pulls Morri closer.

"Well yes...but...well. Don't you think this is rather sudden, isn't it?" the paladin squirms a bit uncomfortably, despite the growing warmth stirring in her veins.

"So? They can't hear a thing, you know, if that is what concerns you." Sariana whispers in her ear as she turned Morri's back to her to massage, her smooth hands working her shoulders and exploring her with ever increasing boldness over the material of her shirt. Nimble fingers slide down her chest and works free the fastenings and then slip her shirt off her shoulders. Morri reaches to hold it as promising soft whispers again reaches her ear along with nibbles to it. "Just relax. Need more wine?" Sariana whispers as the seduction continues.

Huskily, in a voice that almost doesn't sound like her own, she replies as the soft silk shirt slips from her skin and pools to the floor. "Yes, it does concern me...the noise...and...yes, more wine please." Magically the wineskin seems to appear within her hand and she nearly drops it as she feels the soft pads of Sariana's fingers slipping over her taut stomach muscles and to her waistband of her breeches. Soft hands guide her to lean back against Sariana and instead of the soft material of the robe hard nubs press against her back. A soft gasp flows from her lips as her breeches are unfastened and worked free of her then soft hands caress along her inner thighs, slowly parting them. Kisses and nibbles are drizzled over her ear, neck and shoulder from behind then soft words at her ear..."What are those marks, Morrigan?" is asked as fingers trace the brands upon her inner thighs.

"Brands, from dark elves, orcs and goblins, from long ago." Morri softly replies as soft fingers now delve into trace along her sex lips, causing her to feel heady.

"Poor thing...I will have to take a closer look." is the silken reply that causes her stomach to flutter in anticipation. The wineskin, nearly drained, is set aside as Morri turns within Sariana's arms and their lips come intoxicatingly close. Morri's tongue licks against Sariana's before the elven woman captures hers in a fierce kiss with a bite to her bottom lip. She pushes Morri's back to the side of the carriage and moves over Morri, placing one of her legs between the back of the seat and Morri's, then Morri's leg, Sariana's again while Morri's right leg dangles off the edge of the seat, her foot flat to the floor.

Like ocean waves crashing to a shore their lips meet with the fierceness any warrior would admire. Soft, wine sweetened lips twist on soft, elven lips as tongues writhe and chase each other. Hands begin a lover's dance upon each other's bodies as breasts are sought, kneaded, squeezed, nipples tugged upon harshly. Rosy nipples are pressed into hands as dusky crowned pierced ones are pressed into Sariana's.

Their lips part and Morri's eyes rake over the voluptuous body the elf had hid under the robe. The sensual, pert upturned nipples down to the curvaceous hips and silken blond sex. Sariana gives a wicked grin as her eyes take in the piercings upon Morri's larger, firm breasts, the navel piercing and the metallic colored tattoo of the howling wolf against the back drop of the moon upon her left breast. Suddenly the tip of a tongue is tracing the gentle curve of the wolf's tail around Morri's left nipple and firm hands harshly force her thighs apart. Morri's hands begin to sneak down Sariana's body and over the curve of her hips to grip her firm butt cheeks when her hands are gripped and pushed back and held with a firm "No" issued from Sariana.

A whimper of pleasure comes from Morrigan and the assault of lips and tongue lower upon her body as she is held rather firmly by the surprisingly strong druid. "Another toy..? Marvelous.." comes Sariana's throaty words when her tongue happen to find the clit ring. At this point Morrigan just dissolves into the bliss filled morning as she and Sariana take turns pleasuring each other.

The morning slips to afternoon when both finally collapse within each others arms. At this point the carriage slows and both emerge, appearing somewhat disheveled, though clean and dressed and Morri with only her mithril vambraces from her armor. She was first out and glances up to Samuels. "Taking a short walk break and making Jennifer ride below now. Walker Swamp is just ahead." Samuels replies in answer to Morri's questioning gaze as both he and Jennifer begin to climb down. Morri nods and walks around as she watches over the group during the brief break. Worriedly she glances to the sky, noting it seems even redder yet.

Within the hour they are again moving through the increasing darkening land as trees grow thicker, the land to either side of the road more swampy and the sky almost a crimson. A hush like death hangs in the air where not even a bird or frog is heard. This lasts for almost two hours till they break free of the swamp and start up a large hill, the darkness breaking as the trees begin to thin and each begin to breath easier. The carriage stops at the top of the hill and again all disembark. Below in the swamp, death follows....

The devastation below is incredulous as heaps of dying and dead goblins lay in the field before a stone house, scattered like twigs and dropped where they lay in waves out from the house. Nothing seems to move with the house. Shock flows through Morrigan and such deep sadness at the extent of death, even the death of green skins tearing at the heart of the tender hearted paladin. She takes several steps ahead of the group, her eyes trying to make sense of the scene below. Scavengers roam among the bodies and an occasional muffled scream as a scavenger feasts upon one of the dying. A wolf picking here and there, birds on other bodies and wisps of smoke dot the scene from dying fires.

Jennifer screams..."Grandfather!" and the second scream breaks Morri's daze as she realizes it's filled with pain. She turns around to see what appeared to be Samuels was now a dark elf female holding a dagger pressed so tight to Jennifer's neck that a small trickle of crimson trickles down the pale skin. Sariana seems equally as shocked.

"Your grandfather owes me! Forty years ago he killed my mother and framed me and shattered my house's power when he stole the Crystal. Forty years I have been punished by the driders! Forty years! But now, I have found him and I want the house Crystal back! I want redeemed from the driders! Imagine how easy it was to get the goblins to do my bidding when they thought High Elves were going to defame their land." a wicked laugh splits the air and Sariana takes a step backwards, hand pressed to her lips.

"Same thing happened to your friend, elf, though I had the pleasure of slitting his throat myself. Didn't know your friend had such a dark past?" again the wicked laugh.

"No wonder you didn't seem to know about alerting me.." Sariana chokes.

"You learn fast, wench. You will make some profit yet when you are sold. Now, if you would be so kind, paladin..." the dark elf Samuels spits," tie up the elf then march down there and get my Crystal. If you return, I won't kill the girl. Now go!" she barks.

A light shake of her head, her golden mane brushing over her shoulders. "Let them go and I will do as you ask. My word, as a paladin."

"Ha! I am not stupid, now do it!" the knife sinks into Jennifer's skin, dimpling the skin and causing Jennifer's dark eyes to widen with fear.

"Easy, take it easy." she lifts her hands then moves to take the rope pointed out to her from the carriage. She draws Sariana's hands behind her and ties them while the dark elf female watches, hoping that Sariana saw her drop a dagger back of the carriage where she got the rope. "I'm sorry, Sariana." Sariana simply nods as she is bound.

"Enough with the sentiments, now go!" the dark elf warns as she holds the knife to Jennifer's paling skin.

With nothing else coming to mind to try and not wishing to antagonize the female dark elf further she turns to walk down the hill, pausing over a dying goblin. She reaches down to heal it when she hears a shout above. "No stops! Or they die!" she glances up to the dark elf and sighs, then turns to head towards the house.

The field is virtually silent except for the stirring of scavengers as she walks among the bodies and the rendering of flesh from bones as they feast upon the goblins. She reaches the stone cottage to find the door ajar and she ducks and steps within the dim interior. She finds the body of one she guesses is a helper, a goblin spear pinning his body upon the leg of the upturned wooden table. A dark, rhythmic voice from the shadows of the house alert her. "I am Morrigan, the paladin, here to lend assistance." Fear grips her soul with chilling fingers as the man emerges, the scent of death about him. He's short, with graying hair, dark eyes, pale, handsome features mottled with age and worry.

"Assist who? The goblin chief? What are his demands?" comes the crackling, dark voice from his thin lips.

"You. Jennifer is in danger." simple words that might speak volumes and wedge open the door to trust, or slam it in her face. She holds her breath.

"Jennifer?!? Where is she?" The man steps forth and draws his hand to Morrigan's face as it seems to whither like a skeleton's hand as he holds the spell of death conjured within it.

"With an old enemy of yours that claims you have something of hers...a crystal? She wants it for Jennifer's life. Small price to pay for the child, don't you think?" she asks.

His hand wavers, the spell dissipates and Morrigan releases her breath. "Take it. My power is failing with my age and the crystal is of little use to me anymore...Let me get it." he offers with resignation in his voice and motions for her to wait. Morrigan nods and walks to the door to stand guard while he retrieves it. Then pain and blackness as the trusting paladin crumples from a blow to the skull from the treacherous necromancer.

Thud...thud...thud. Thud...thud...thud...comes the distant beat mixed with guttural words and screams. The thuds turn into dull stabs of pain as her eyes part, then blink rapidly as her left one burns and seems to peer through a blood red haze. Her wrists ache as well as her shoulders as she realizes she hangs from bound wrists tied to a tree of which its bark cuts into her back. Figures writhe and dance around an altar not far from her. Whimpering next reaches her right ear and she turns that way, despite the sickening nausea to see Jennifer bound to a tree as well, her clothes even more tattered and bloodied, but otherwise she seems as if nothing life threatening was done to her.

The sharp sting of a whip across her bare thighs cause her to grunt with pain as skin is tore beneath the rough hide lash of the whip. "Now that you are awake and I have your attention..." snarls the dark elf female as she coils back the whip..."Seems grandfather decided to let you and his granddaughter take his place of honor. Ohglinesh will commence as soon as my goblin friends take care of the few Walkers he raised to cover his trail. Meanwhile...lets not hold up the celebration 'too' long." evilly she laughs and the whip snakes forth, to taste of Morrigan's bare flesh again. She's then hauled off the tree and whipped till her back is a bloody pulp, with Jennifer screaming in the background, laughs and jeers from the orcs and goblins and as the dark elf continues her hate filled tirade. "And this one is for the elf escaping as well!" she snaps the whip again, each lash reflecting some sort grievance that the dark elf attributes to Morri. She vaguely sees her clothes and her armor among some of the goblins as they start to stake her down, then all becomes a blur as the next abuses and rapes commence. She then sees within the haze of her mind other men and women bound and similarly being abused then she is lost to pain as the dark elf pours alcohol upon her open wounds. She screams as she burns with pain just before passing out upon the cold ground where she was staked.

The blood red of dawn falls across her battered body and her swollen eyes slowly open upon the scene of drunk goblins lethargically beginning to wake from their night of activities. A small goblin sits just in front of her and starts poking a finger at her face and shoulder as she watches another in the distance seem to shuffle about as if his direction is unclear and bits of rotten flesh hang on him. She shudders...must be a walker. Her gaze travels back to the small goblin as he pokes at a bite upon her shoulder left from one of the orcs. "I..am...Morri." she utters through cracked lips, her voice hoarse.

The small goblin appears emaciated, sickly, she can see now. "Gaglimesh." he grunts in poor common. "Soon, Ohglinesh. We go there." he points towards somewhere off to her side and she twists to see where he points and catches sight of the corner of the altar. "We die, then we Walk." he grunts again.

Dazedly she takes his words in and she catches the sight of an iron medallion upon his neck within the breaking dawn's light. Obviously they are to be sacrificed. "What is that?" she asks, her eyes locking on the medallion.

"Son of chief." he grunts then pokes again, causing pain.

"And they will kill you...why?" she brokenly inquires.

"Gaglimesh sick. So Gaglimesh die on altar." he grunts again. Poke, poke, prod.

"Gaglimesh want to be chief some day?" she hoarsely asks him.

"Chief good. Yes." he grunts.

"Morri can fix Gaglimesh."

The poking stops and he turns sickly yellow eyes on hers. "You lie." poke!

"No. Let me try." she pleads, softly...not much time.

"Why? After all hurt woman. She lie. She trick Gaglimesh." he growls, poking roughly into a deep bite.

Gasp of pain. "No. If I lie, then Gaglimesh can have honor of killing Morri on altar." she rasps.

"Okay. Fix." he sits back, eyeing her.

"I need a hand free."

"Trick!" he grunts.

"No. Let try. I am too weak to run, my leg is broke, where can I go?"

"You not fix self, why?"

"Because I cannot with hands tied. My majick requires my hands free. Please." she pleads.

Long moments, fingers of red morning sky like blood drip through the sky.

Snap. Snap. He cuts her bounds. "Fix now!"

Slowly she sits up, her head spinning and weakness pervades through her limbs. "Let me have your hand. I must touch. No tricks. You can put dagger here to be sure.." she points with a heavy hand towards her neck. His dagger lifts and presses against it as the small, sick goblin takes her hand. She swallows, and through the discern ailment she sees he is dying.

She closes her eyes as she summons up all her strength and she can smell his putrid breath as the small goblin leans right into her face. The words flow freely, like a mountain stream and crystalline tears form at the corner of her eyes. Slowly they roll down her bloody, dirty face, yet seem to remain pure as they fall upon his mottled skin. Suddenly he jerks back as the majick of the Lay of Hands fills him, then she collapses back onto the cold dirt in exhaustion, her naked breasts rising and falling with the deep inhalations. She's unaware of how much time passes when there is a sharp pain at her side and she opens her eyes to see the goblin chief hunching over her naked form, her hands till unbound.

"Gaglimesh say you fix." he grunts.

"Yes."

"You no run."

"No. I promised him I would not." she replies, making no move. She notices a similar medallion about the goblin's neck.

"He will grow strong again?" the chief grunts in common.

"Yes."

"You have price?" he reasons in his mind.

"Free the child Jennifer." she croaks.

"Not you? Why not?"

Here is the turning point, she hopes as she tries to dredge through a haze of pain. "I wanted to heal the fallen goblins on the hill but the dark elf would not let me. She wants a crystal and wants to use you and your tribe to get it. If you do not kill me, I will heal as many of your tribe as I can, IF you free Jennifer."

"What if we kill then?"

"Then you kill me. I will not run or fight you. My word. Like I gave Gaglimesh. My word is scared to me, like your god is to you."

"You lie about the dark elf."

"No, you will see. Just free the girl and I will heal."

Her eyes close while she waits his decision, then a burning pain of a hot poker as it is pressed into the soft skin at the top of her breast. She screams as she teeters on the edge of darkness.

"If you run, we find with brand. Girl will go, you watch, then heal." The chief states as he steps back with the red hot poker in his hand, the scent of burnt flesh heavy in the air.

Her eyes open and she sees Jennifer standing beside the chief and she is drug to her feet. He gives the girl a shove. "Go!"

"Run Jennifer!" she tells the girl and she darts into the edge of the forest atop the hill. "Now you heal. Keep deal. Dark elf back later." he grunts and motions to the wounded gathered.

"Chief. I will heal all I can till I pass out. When I wake, I can heal more. I will not run." He grunts, indifferent and waits to see that she keeps her word. Heavily she sits on the ground and motions to the first goblin, healing all she can till she passes out into the pit of darkness as she vaguely feels sickening goblin fingers probing at her flesh again.

***************************************************************

Soft is the ground beneath her, like a bed. Scent of fresh flowers tickle at her nose and the scent of breakfast hangs in the air. Her eyes part to dimming streaks of light filling the room and her gaze sweeps around her. "She's awake!" comes the squeal from beside her and she sharply turns to see Jennifer raising from a chair then a handsome young, dark haired man with the same bottomless black eyes as Jennifer's enter the room, Sariana right behind him.

"Wha....?" she tries to ask through parched lips as Sariana moves to the side to help her sit up.

"Good evening, Lady Morrigan." comes his deep, smooth voice. "Welcome back, Morrigan." Sariana smiles and kisses her forehead as she sits beside her on the bed and lifts water to her lips.

""It's allot to take in but I will try to keep it brief," Jerico began. "Upon returning Sariana alerted me and the few knights that was still with me to the situation. We found Jennifer in a tree not far from where she fled the encampment and you were passed out. He was arguing with the dark elf, it seems she didn't keep her word about something and when she tried to kill the chief and escape, we captured her. The chief gave us you in exchange for her, he wanted her so badly. Also, in your state, it seems you muttered the name of a more powerful dark elf house they respected and that matched your brand. It seems...you impressed him about something, best I can make out. Something about you gave him back his son so he gave you your life in exchange. It was hard to tell, his language was rough. They then left with the bound dark elf towards Walkers Swamp. Lot of the villages around here were attacked but it seems like they stopped as quickly as they started." he gives a long pause. "Grandfather left a confession. He's gone. That is all I know. You have been asleep about two days now after one of the local healers tended what he could of your injuries. I made a cane till your leg gets better." he smiles, but there is much sadness behind it. "Well, rest now. Some of my knights would like to visit you in a few days, if you don't mind. When you are well enough, they will return you home."

"I don't mind." she replies as she tries to take in all she could. She watches as Jerico nods then slips out.

Sariana takes her hand. "He couldn't tell you. Seems his father was responsible for his wife's disappearance and death. He arranged for her capture to gain some parchments about the crystal's history."

Jennifer reaches up to hug her then leaves to go join her father and Morri can see her slip her hand within his as they walk towards the door.

"Jennifer didn't tell you, but you look a bit like her. That is why she was sort of cold with you at first. It...upset her." gently her fingers lace into Morrigan's hair, and Morri sheds tears at the pain they must feel.

Several days later, her leg on the mend and wounds virtually gone as she slowly heals more in between hours of rest, she reaches for the cane as it hung near the chair upon the back porch where she was relaxing in the sun. She had watched Jerico, up near the hill beside the willow tree the day before and curiosity had gotten the better of her. She listens to Jennifer and Sariana inside as they begin supper and she raises up on the cane to support her mending broken leg. With effort she hobbles up the hill till she stands beneath the old willow tree.

She stands panting with the effort and leans heavily on the cane. The fear that had fled now seems to creep back into her, a dread. The first stone is a loving testament to Jerico's wife. The second stone is black with clawed white writing upon its surface and appears to be cruelly shoved into the ground. A simple stone with no signs of a grave to mark. Her eyes travel over each line slowly.

*For my sins cry full a sea
The crystal hidden beyond the grasp of this mortal coil
*It's power was not mine yet to be
Green skins, dark elf and a simple paladin, my plans they did foil
*Someday as the seasons come and go and my deeds are beyond memory
When those of this day are too frail to resist me
*The crystal and its power will rise again to feed hate
Keep your foolish tears and Weep Not for Me.
Signed, Kalmesh Saren, the Necromancer

BACK